Sigurd ate while waiting for his companion to descend the Vestfold slope. He reminisced about the days spent with his father by the campfire where he would relate stories of Asgard. The man would be proud of him now. To have been accepted into this realm was beyond a dream come true. The Valkyrie had entrusted him with an important mission, and on his honour he would not let her down. Ragnarok was no longer the stuff of folklore; he was a part of it.

His stomach warmed with delight to the taste of roasted salmon. The past several days had been fruit and leaves; meat was a welcome change to his diet. He burped with all his might and then sighed.

The lady who he had been watching finally arrived. “Are you Sigurd?”

“Yes,” he answered, quickly devouring the rest of the fish. “Lady Karina?”

“Karina will do.”

They skipped the formalities and simply nodded to each other. Karina’s stoic demeanour reminded Sigurd of his mother. Melancholy flickered in his heart. She died protecting him from a bear attack when he was child. From that day forward, he vowed to train and grow strong so that he could protect others. This mission might prove to be more dangerous than anticipated; he must not let his guard down for both their sakes.

“You do not have a weapon?” Sigurd asked, more concerned than surprised.

Karina twirled her hand, and a flame appeared in her palm. “This is my weapon.”

He had thought only the gods could wield magic, but this lady certainly showed how naïve he was. “That’s incredible…”

“Shall we go?”

And so their hunt began.

 

Sigurd marveled at the vastness of the forest, its canopy shielding much of the sun’s rays. To have detected the presence of the darkling from the sky, the raven’s sight had to have employed a sort of magic. Karina opted to conserve her powers; the stream’s natural luminosity provided scant but sufficient lighting.

As they ventured deeper, the sounds of animals started to subside until only the waters were audible. It was as if all the creatures were sleeping or had abandoned the area. Or something worse.

“This is unusual,” Sigurd said, noticing the dark discolouration on the petals of certain flowers. On the ground lay the carcass of a bird, its walnut-sized head twisted three-hundred-sixty degrees. “Poor thing.”

Karina ignited a flame. “The darkling is close. Stay alert.”

Shadows danced around them, created by the fire in her hand. His eyes scrutinized every bush and plant they passed. Scanning their surroundings multiple times, he spotted a snake-like object about ten yards away dipping itself into the stream. Sigurd’s heart picked up pace. He gripped his spear tight and took a deep breath.

“Over there,” he whispered and eased towards the slithering vine.

“Be careful.”

The darkling rustled, as if it had heard them, revealing two glowing green eyes behind its leafy form. Sigurd sidestepped the vine flying at him and thrust his spear through its side, severing the limb. Karina waved her arm and set the rest of it aflame. As the limb slowly turned to dust, the monster seemed to shrink and curl up.

“The core…” Sigurd walked towards the green glow. “We have to destroy it.”

“Wait!”

Suddenly, a second vine sprung forth at blinding speed. Sigurd leapt to dodge and landed on the ground with a sharp sting to the calf. He stifled the pain and rose to his feet, just as his companion toasted the limb with another fire spell. The darkling rustled madly and scurried away.

Karina rushed to his side. “Are you injured?”

“No.” Sigurd brushed her off and lumbered after the darkling.

“Sigurd,” she called to him, her voice breathy.

“We have to pursue it.”

“I need…to rest…”

He turned around to see her collapse. “Lady Karina!”

 

They had no choice but to break. Karina’s face was pale from exhaustion; it seemed wielding magic was rather taxing on the body. He should have known as much. Sigurd fetched her some water from the stream, then started a bonfire. The darkling was gone, and it was getting cold. He sat with her, reflecting on what had gone wrong.

“Do not fret,” she consoled, sensing his disappointment. “We will find the darkling.”

Sigurd massaged his sore calf. Fortunately, it was only a minor strain and should recover shortly. His ego, on the other hand, might not be as easy to soothe. “I let my guard down.”

“You have more courage than most men I knew.”

Her remark sounded genuine and not patronizing. In fact, the contemplative tone made Sigurd believe that there was more to her words, but he did not want to pry. “Thank you.”

Karina chuckled, her energy already coming back. “There is a spot in Valhalla reserved just for you, Sigurd of Arendal.” She stood and walked over to the bonfire to warm her hands.

He smiled and thought for a moment. “Is that not what we all strive for, a seat next to Odin himself?”

“No…” she said plainly without elaborating.

A long silence fell over their camp.

Sigurd soon grew tired and lay down to sleep.

 

The next day, they continued their hunt for the darkling. Karina suggested they follow the stream, as the creature seemed to have an affinity for water. The wilted plants along the way certainly supported her theory. And thanks to a thinning in the forest, sunlight was able to shine through, brightening up the surroundings as well as their mood.

Sigurd increased his pace, eager to close the gap between them and the darkling. They had weakened the monster the night before; they must not allow it time to recover. He just wished Karina would walk faster, but perhaps she was still not all full strength.

“Now that the darkling is aware of our presence, we must be more cautious,” she said, her tone oddly serious.

Of course, he knew that. But they had to make haste, or the monster would do more damage to the forest. He examined the lifeless rabbit on the ground, its corpse still warm. “It’s close.”

“Sigurd, I need you to promise me something. If it becomes too dangerous, I want you to run.”

“I won’t.” It annoyed him that she would say such a thing. Who did she take him for? “I will fight to the end, even if it means death.”

“Listen to me.” She spun him around with her hands and stared right into his eyes. “Courage without strength is folly. Do you understand?”

“You’re wrong.” Hurt, Sigurd brushed her away and carried on walking. He was weak, yes, but he was not stupid. “It is courage that gives me strength.”

She sighed. “I suppose your mind is made up.”

Sigurd focused his attention on finding the darkling. The discolouration had significantly lessened in the span of a mile. Either the creature was full, or it was trying to hide its tracks. The battle the day before taught him a good lesson; he would not let his guard down a second time.

The sudden squawk of a bird nearby threw them into a high alert.

A loud rustle.

“There!” Karina pointed to a vine retracting into a bush as she launched a fireball at the whole thing. It dodged, then disappeared behind a tree.

Sigurd ran after the darkling. Karina followed. Where her spell had landed, smoke rose from the burnt grass. They stopped and scanned around. It was eerily quiet; the creature was hiding.

“Lady Karina…”

A feather drifted down past his eyes.

Sigurd snapped his head upwards to see a vine spiraling at him. He ducked, then swung his spear at it and missed.

“Sigurd!” Karina cried out.

Fear struck when he saw that a second vine had tightened its grip around her. He rushed to help but was whipped aside by the monster’s other limb. Leering at them from atop a branch roughly twenty feet high, the darkling lifted Karina off the ground and began to pull her upwards.

“Karina!” he screamed, desperate to reach her but could not fend off the monster’s attacks. What if he threw the spear at the core? No. That would be futile at his skill level.

Thinking quickly, he dropped his weapon and leapt into the air. His hands grabbed hold of the free limb and wrapped it around his arms. The tree trunk was close by; he could use it as leverage. Digging his feet into the ground, he pulled with all his might. The darkling shook wildly, but Sigurd held on tight and continued to march. All the while, Karina struggled to break free as a green aura enveloped her body.

Time was running out.

He would not let a fellow Einherjar die!

Sigurd stepped halfway around the tree and planted his feet on the trunk. A fire ignited in him, the same fire he felt on the bloody grass of Arendal. He summoned the strength of the gods and, with one powerful tug, ripped the limb off the creature’s body.

There was no blood, only a dull moan as the darkling lost balance and tipped over. And as it fell from the tree, its remaining vine loosened, allowing Karina to break free and land on her feet. With no delay, she channeled her powers to her fingertips and unleashed the fires of Muspelheim on the enemy.

Sigurd joined Karina and watched the darkling burn.

“It’s over,” she said, relieved.

As the bush of leaves turned to ash, a green sphere no bigger than a human head revealed itself. It wobbled back and forth a few times, then gave up. Sigurd picked up his spear and thrust it at the core, shattering it into a hundred pieces.